


How to Break Up a Knife Fight

by RubyofRaven



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Arguing, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Batfamily-centric (DCU), Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Fun, Gen, Humor, Humorous Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28100148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyofRaven/pseuds/RubyofRaven
Summary: In which Alfred is away, Bruce has an emergency, and someone needs to be left in charge.OrWhat is the correct way to break up a knife fight?
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Comments: 9
Kudos: 240





	How to Break Up a Knife Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> As always, my awesome and adept friend Ruby of Raven has graciously posted this fic on her account for me. She’s been incredibly helpful and supportive, so shout out to her! 
> 
> I love characterizations of bat family moments where Alfred is absent but clearly the glue holding everything together, Bruce is both exasperated and almost realizes his shortcomings as a parent, Tim is a teenage coffee addict, Dick likes hugs and sugary cereal too much, Jason cares about nutrition (and reluctantly his brothers), and Cass is competent enough to take over the world but just can’t be bothered with the stupid problems world-rule would invite. This is my contribution to that fic/characterization genre.
> 
> -MMR

Alfred is three days into his yearly sabbatical when Bruce gets the call for an emergency mission off-world for the Justice League.

Which would be fine, except Tim is staying at the manor while his apartment undergoes repairs for damage sustained in the most recent battle with Mr. Freeze (and _maybe_ Bruce had moved the fight that way on purpose, and _maybe_ he’s been secretly delaying the repairs - but he’s bad with words, and Tim is a _child_ who should be living at home) and Damian and Tim under one roof without a buffer is a bad idea, to say the least.

It’s late in the afternoon and everyone is down in the cave. Tim is researching, Dick and Damian are sparring, even Jason has stopped by - ostensibly to use the Batcomputer to run data, but mostly to annoy his siblings while he waits for it to be late enough to start patrol. 

Five minutes ago Bruce could have sworn Cass was over by Dick and Damian, sitting off to the side of the mats and stretching, but he can’t see her anywhere now.

Bruce is all suited up - minus the cowl - and he’s just finished packing everything he’ll need for this mission. He’s almost ready to go, so he calls Dick over from the sparring mats to sort out a few final details.

“I need you to stay at the manor for the next couple days and keep an eye on things,” Bruce tells him, and Dick tilts his head curiously. Bruce pointedly looks between Tim and Damian.

“Ah,” Dick says, nodding. He turns, “Hey baby bros! I’m in charge!”

Considering he is very vocal about the fact he does not live in the manor - or under Bruce’s rules - it's surprising when Jason is the first person to respond. “Why’re you in charge when the big bat’s away?”

“I’m the oldest,” Dick replies.

“Yeah, but I’m a good couple years into adulthood, too,” Jason says.

“I’m the best option,” Dick insists.

Bruce grimaces at that, but luckily the others are too wrapped up in the argument to notice. 

Cass is actually the best option. She is the most level-headed and competently self-sufficient of his children. But, in further proof of her good sense, she had evidently quietly disappeared from the vicinity of the cave before Bruce could ask her to be in charge.

“More like the default option,” Jason says.

“Well, you don’t ever stay overnight here. So I’m really the _only_ option,” Dick says.

Jason scoffs, “I am perfectly capable of staying with the munchkins. I just don’t want to.”

Dick snorts, “Like anyone would put you in charge of babysitting.”

It’s at this point Tim surfaces from his research and takes offense at the conversation.

“I don’t need to be babysat. I’m fine on my own,” Tim says, “I traveled the world for a year and pulled Bruce out of the time stream by myself.”

“You also teamed up with Ra’s al Ghul's murder cult and lost your spleen,” Jason interjects.

Tim pouts, and Bruce makes a humming sound that might be agreement.

“Todd has a point, you are clearly a danger to yourself,” Damian says, joining the discussion.

“Not that I want Drake staying here, though,” he adds, looking at Bruce. “I also do not need supervision.”

“You’re a literal child,” Tim says.

“You’re a legal one,” Damian replies.

“I’ve been emancipated,” Tim points out.

Which reminds Bruce, he needs to find out what judge approved letting his barely sixteen-years-old, five-foot-seven, whip thin, coffee-addicted, regularly sleep-deprived son live on his own. He’d like to have a chat with him or her.

Meanwhile, Tim is still listing off his qualifications for not needing a babysitter. 

“I’ve been living on my own essentially since age six. I learned how to operate a stove before most kids could write a full sentence,” he says.

“That’s not the reassuring statement you think it is,” Dick tells him.

“I wasn’t much older when I first used a stove,” Jason points out.

Tim waves his hand in a _See!_ gesture, as if they have stumbled across a fact that indisputably ends the argument. 

Not for the first time, Bruce wonders if he really should have insisted his children attend therapy. Alfred had found a very well-reviewed child psychologist in Metropolis back when Dick had first come to live with him; he wonders if they still have that number.

He sighs internally, if only he had had the strength to say “no” to Dick’s puppy eyes back then, but he had been a total pushover as a new father. 

Come to think of it, he probably should have read those parenting books Alfred had bought for him, too.

“Once again, not the reassuring statement _either_ of you think that is,” Dick tells his brothers. 

Bruce absently notes that Dick is starting to fidget in the way that means he wants to either do a fancy backflip or hug someone.

“I had servants to prepare meals, but I was training with knives at age four, so the danger level of this domestic chore seems minimal,” Damian says.

Dick looks like he’s about to tackle-hug one of his brothers, but he can’t quite decide which one to grab first.

“This is why I’m in charge! I didn’t complete dangerous household tasks as a toddler!” Dick says.

“Yeah, you just did acrobatics from a high wire. So safe. So normal,” Tim mutters.

“At least I had adult supervision!” Dick replies.

“So did I with my knife training,” Damian says.

“I had _compassionate_ adult supervision!” Dick nearly shouts.

Silence follows, as none of the others can find anything to say in response to that.

Deciding he has let this go on long enough, Bruce breaks the (depressing) momentary peace.

“Alfred _does_ approve of Dick’s conflict management skills the most,” he says.

In reality, it’s a close call, but tackle-hugs tend to result in less property damage, and physical damage, than fights.

However, Jason has apparently decided he’s not done with this debate that-wasn’t-supposed-to-be-a-debate. Why can’t Bruce’s kids just listen to him for once?

“Alfred cares about healthy food, too, and Dick will just feed everyone sugary garbage,” Jason says.

“Cereal is healthy! It’s the breakfast of champions!” Dick replies.

“That’s just Wheaties,” Tim says. “On a good day, you eat disturbing amounts of Frosted Mini Wheats mixed with Lucky Charms.”

“Frosted Mini Wheats improves concentration. They did a study and everything,” Dick protests. 

“That study methodology was crap - they literally only proved that it was better than eating nothing,” Tim says.

Jason nods, and Bruce wonders when those two started getting along.

“And you don’t even eat wheaties, you eat that sugar loaded, no-fiber, marshmallow stuff! You’re not feeding it to the kids,” Jason says.

“I do not need to be ‘fed’ like an infant or a house pet. I can procure my own food. The kitchen is fully stocked,” Damian objects.

Tim raises one of the many mugs scattered over his work station in a little salute before taking a sip.

“Ditto. Yep. Coffee,” he says.

Bruce spares him a considering look, and idly debates the merits of changing the coffee in the kitchen to decaf (but obviously not Bruce's own personal stash in his office).

Jason looks at Damian.“You might know how to throw daggers, but you don’t know how to use a stove,” he turns to face Tim, “And Tim, for probably the billionth time, coffee isn’t food.”

“False,” Tim says as he takes another sip from his mug.

“I’ve _got_ to find that judge,” Bruce mumbles under his breath, too quietly for the boys to hear.

“Well, if you put enough creamer in it, you might get the caloric value high enough,” Dick says.

Jason shakes his head in disbelief. “See? If anyone is in charge, it should be me,” he says.

Bruce has to grudgingly admit that Jason has a point about the food. But there is no way he’d leave him as a mediator between Tim and Damian. This is a point he can prove easily enough, and hopefully settle the argument. 

“Okay,” Bruce tells his two oldest sons, “If you were in charge, how would you break up a knife fight between Tim and Damian?”

“I don’t carry knives,” Tim objects.

“Idiot,” Damian mutters.

“Disarm Damian, hug them both, and remind them the house rule is: no murdering or maiming your brother!” Dick says.

“Give Tim a knife so it’s fair,” Jason says.

At this point Bruce is seven minutes late for his planned departure time from the cave, so he groans in exasperation and leaves Dick 60% in charge and Jason 40% in charge.

As he gets into the Batmobile, Bruce can hear Jason still talking to Dick.

“What are you smiling about, big bird?” Jason asks.

“Since we’re both in charge you have to stay at the manor with all of us. We can have a slumber party!” Dick says.

“Oh hell -,” Jason says before there is the sound of a scuffle that is most definitely Dick trying to hug Jason and Jason trying to punch him.

Once he arrives at the Watchtower, Bruce takes a moment to text Cass.

_You are 100% in charge until Alfred or I return. Please make sure your brothers haven't killed each other or burned down the manor in the next few days._


End file.
